Читать книгу The Maids Tragedy - Beaumont Francis - Страница 2

Cleon. The rest are making ready Sir.

Strat. So let them, there's time enough.

Diph. You are the brother to the King, my Lord, we'll take your word.

Lys. Strato, thou hast some skill in Poetry, What thinkst thou of a Mask? will it be well?

Strat. As well as Mask can be.

Lys. As Mask can be?

Cle. See, good my Lord, who is return'd!

Lys. Noble Melantius!

Diph. Hail worthy brother!

                 He that rejoyces not at your return

                 In safety, is mine enemy for ever.

Mel. I thank thee Diphilus: but thou art faulty;

                  I sent for thee to exercise thine armes

                 With me at Patria: thou cam'st not Diphilus: 'Twas

                  ill.

Diph. My noble brother, my excuse

                 Is my King's strict command, which you my Lord

                 Can witness with me.

Lys. 'Tis true Melantius,

                 He might not come till the solemnity

                 Of this great match were past.

Diph. Have you heard of it?

Mel. Yes, I have given cause to those that

                 Envy my deeds abroad, to call me gamesome;

                  I have no other business here at Rhodes.

Lys. We have a Mask to night,

                  And you must tread a Soldiers measure.

Mel. These soft and silken wars are not for me;

                  The Musick must be shrill, and all confus'd,

                  That stirs my blood, and then I dance with armes:

                  But is Amintor Wed?

Diph. This day.

Mel. All joyes upon him, for he is my friend:

                  Wonder not that I call a man so young my friend,

                  His worth is great; valiant he is, and temperate,

                  And one that never thinks his life his own,

                  If his friend need it: when he was a boy,

                  As oft as I return'd (as without boast)

                  I brought home conquest, he would gaze upon me,

                  And view me round, to find in what one limb

                  The vertue lay to do those things he heard:

                  Then would he wish to see my Sword, and feel

                  The quickness of the edge, and in his hand

                  Weigh it; he oft would make me smile at this;

                  His youth did promise much, and his ripe years

                  Will see it all perform'd.

Melan. Hail Maid and Wife!

                 Thou fair Aspatia, may the holy knot

                 That thou hast tyed to day, last till the hand

                 Of age undo't; may'st thou bring a race

                 Unto Amintor that may fill the world

                 Successively with Souldiers.

Asp. My hard fortunes

                 Deserve not scorn; for I was never proud

                 When they were good.

Mel. How's this?

Lys. You are mistaken, for she is not married.

Mel. You said Amintor was.

Diph. 'Tis true; but

Mel. Pardon me, I did receive

                  Letters at Patria, from my Amintor,

                  That he should marry her.

Diph. And so it stood,

                  In all opinion long; but your arrival

                  Made me imagine you had heard the change.

Mel. Who hath he taken then?

Lys. A Lady Sir,

                  That bears the light above her, and strikes dead

                  With flashes of her eye; the fair Evadne your

                  vertuous Sister.

Mel. Peace of heart betwixt them: but this is strange.

Lys. The King my brother did it

                  To honour you; and these solemnities

                  Are at his charge.

Mel. 'Tis Royal, like himself;

                  But I am sad, my speech bears so unfortunate a sound

                  To beautiful Aspatia; there is rage

                  Hid in her fathers breast; Calianax

                  Bent long against me, and he should not think,

                  If I could call it back, that I would take

                  So base revenges, as to scorn the state

                  Of his neglected daughter: holds he still his greatness

                  with the King?

Lys. Yes; but this Lady

                  Walks discontented, with her watry eyes

                  Bent on the earth: the unfrequented woods

                  Are her delight; and when she sees a bank

                  Stuck full of flowers, she with a sigh will tell

                  Her servants what a pretty place it were

                  To bury lovers in, and make her maids

                  Pluck'em, and strow her over like a Corse.

                  She carries with her an infectious grief

                  That strikes all her beholders, she will sing

                  The mournful'st things that ever ear hath heard,

                  And sigh, and sing again, and when the rest

                  Of our young Ladies in their wanton blood,

                  Tell mirthful tales in course that fill the room

                  With laughter, she will with so sad a look

                  Bring forth a story of the silent death

                  Of some forsaken Virgin, which her grief

                  Will put in such a phrase, that ere she end,

                  She'l send them weeping one by one away.

Mel. She has a brother under my command

                  Like her, a face as womanish as hers,

                  But with a spirit that hath much out-grown

                  The number of his years.

Cle. My Lord the Bridegroom!

Mel. I might run fiercely, not more hastily

                  Upon my foe: I love thee well Amintor,

                  My mouth is much too narrow for my heart;

                   I joy to look upon those eyes of thine;

                  Thou art my friend, but my disorder'd speech cuts off

                  my love.

Amin. Thou art Melantius;

                  All love is spoke in that, a sacrifice

                  To thank the gods, Melantius is return'd

                  In safety; victory sits on his sword

                  As she was wont; may she build there and dwell,

                  And may thy Armour be as it hath been,

                  Only thy valour and thy innocence.

                  What endless treasures would our enemies give,

                  That I might hold thee still thus!

Mel. I am but poor in words, but credit me young man,

                  Thy Mother could no more but weep, for joy to see thee

                  After long absence; all the wounds I have,

                  Fetch not so much away, nor all the cryes

                  Of Widowed Mothers: but this is peace;

                  And what was War?

Amin. Pardon thou holy God

                  Of Marriage bed, and frown not, I am forc't

                  In answer of such noble tears as those,

                  To weep upon my Wedding day.

Mel. I fear thou art grown too sick; for I hear

                  A Lady mourns for thee, men say to death,

                  Forsaken of thee, on what terms I know not.

Amin. She had my promise, but the King forbad it,

                  And made me make this worthy change, thy Sister

                  Accompanied with graces above her,

                  With whom I long to lose my lusty youth,

                  And grow old in her arms.

Mel. Be prosperous.

Messen. My Lord, the Maskers rage for you.

Lys. We are gone. Cleon, Strata, Diphilus.

Amin. Wee'l all attend you, we shall trouble you

                 With our solemnities.

Mel. Not so Amintor.

                 But if you laugh at my rude carriage

                 In peace, I'le do as much for you in War

                When you come thither: yet I have a Mistress

                 To bring to your delights; rough though I am,

                 I have a Mistress, and she has a heart,

                 She saies, but trust me, it is stone, no better,

                 There is no place that I can challenge in't.

                 But you stand still, and here my way lies.

Diag. Why do you swear so my Lord? You know he'l have it here.

Cal. By this light if he be wise he will not.

Diag. And if he will not be wise, you are forsworn.

Diag. My Lord, I will never keep them out.

                 Pray stay, your looks will terrifie them.

Diag. I mean, because they know you and your Office.

Diag. He's so humourous since his daughter was forsaken:

                 hark, hark, there, there, so, so, codes, codes.

                 What now?

                                                 [Within. knock within.

Mel. Open the door.

Diag. Who's there?

Mel. Melantius.

Diag. I hope your Lordship brings no troop with you,

                 for if you do, I must return them.

Mel. None but this Lady Sir. [And a Lady.

Diag. The Ladies are all plac'd above, save those that

                 come in the Kings Troop, the best of Rhodes sit there,

                 and there's room.

Mel. I thank you Sir: when I have seen you plac'd

                 Madam, I must attend the King; but the Mask done, I'le

                 wait on you again.

I pray can you help me to the speech of the Master Cook?

Diag. If I open the door I'le cook some of your Calvesheads. Peace Rogues.—again,—who is't?

Cal. Let him not in.

Diag. O my Lord I must; make room there for my

                  Lord; is your Lady plac't?

Mel. Yes Sir, I thank you my Lord Calianax: well met,

                  Your causless hate to me I hope is buried.

Cal. It may be so: who placed the Lady there so near the presence of the King?

Mel. I did.

Cal. My Lord she must not sit there.

Mel. Why?

Cal. The place is kept for women of more worth.

Mel. More worth than she? it mis-becomes your Age

                 And place to be thus womanish; forbear;

                 What you have spoke, I am content to think

                 The Palsey shook your tongue to.

Cal. Why 'tis well if I stand here to place mens wenches.

Cal. Nay, I know you can fight for your Whore.

Diag. Good my Lord!

Mel. Some god pluck threescore years from that fond man,

                That I may kill him, and not stain mine honour;

                It is the curse of Souldiers, that in peace

                They shall be brain'd by such ignoble men,

                As (if the Land were troubled) would with tears

                And knees beg succour from 'em: would that blood

                (That sea of blood) that I have lost in fight,

                Were running in thy veins, that it might make thee

                Apt to say less, or able to maintain,

                Shouldst thou say more,—This Rhodes I see is nought

                But a place priviledg'd to do men wrong.

Cal. I, you may say your pleasure.

Amint. What vilde injury

                  Has stirr'd my worthy friend, who is as slow

                  To fight with words, as he is quick of hand?

Mel. That heap of age which I should reverence

                  If it were temperate: but testy years

                  Are most contemptible.

Amint. Good Sir forbear.

Cal. There is just such another as your self.

Amint. He will wrong you, or me, or any man,

                 And talk as if he had no life to lose

                 Since this our match: the King is coming in,

                 I would not for more wealth than I enjoy,

                 He should perceive you raging, he did hear

                 You were at difference now, which hastned him.

Cal. Make room there.

Hoboyes play within.

Cal. He shall not have my hand.

King. This is no time

                 To force you to't, I do love you both:

                  Calianax, you look well to your Office;

                 And you Melantius are welcome home; begin the Mask.

Mel. Sister, I joy to see you, and your choice,

                 You lookt with my eyes when you took that man;

                 Be happy in him.

Evad. O my dearest brother! Your presence is more joyful than this day can be unto me.

The Mask.

Night rises in mists.

Nigh. Our raign is come; for in the raging Sea

                 The Sun is drown'd, and with him fell the day:

                 Bright Cinthia hear my voice, I am the Night

                 For whom thou bear'st about thy borrowed light;

                 Appear, no longer thy pale visage shrowd,

                 But strike thy silver horn through a cloud,

                 And send a beam upon my swarthy face,

                 By which I may discover all the place

                 And persons, and how many longing eyes

                 Are come to wait on our solemnities.

                 How dull and black am I! I could not find

                 This beauty without thee, I am so blind;

                 Methinks they shew like to those Eastern streaks

                 That warn us hence before the morning breaks;

                 Back my pale servant, for these eyes know how

                 To shoot far more and quicker rayes than thou.

Cinth. Great Queen, they be a Troop for whom alone

                 One of my clearest moons I have put on;

                 A Troop that looks as if thy self and I

                 Had pluckt our rains in, and our whips laid by

                 To gaze upon these Mortals, that appear

                 Brighter than we.

  Night. Then let us keep 'em here,

                 And never more our Chariots drive away,

                 But hold our places, and out-shine the day.

  Cinth. Great Queen of shadows, you are

                 pleas'd to speak

                 Of more than may be done; we may not break

                 The gods decrees, but when our time is come,

                 Must drive away and give the day our room.

                 Yet whil'st our raign lasts, let us stretch our power

                 To give our servants one contented hour,

                 With such unwonted solemn grace and state,

                 As may for ever after force them hate

                 Our brothers glorious beams, and wish the night

                 Crown'd with a thousand stars, and our cold light:

                 For almost all the world their service bend

                 To Phoebus and in vain my light I lend,

                 Gaz'd on unto my setting from my rise

                 Almost of none, but of unquiet eyes.

Nigh. Then shine at full, fair Queen, and by thy power

                 Produce a birth to crown this happy hour;

                 Of Nymphs and Shepherds let their songs discover,

                 Easie and sweet, who is a happy Lover;

                 Or if thou woot, then call thine own Endymion

                 From the sweet flowry bed he lies upon,

                 On Latmus top, thy pale beams drawn away,

                 And of this long night let him make a day.

Cinth. Thou dream'st dark Queen, that fair boy was not mine,

                 Nor went I down to kiss him; ease and wine

                 Have bred these bold tales; Poets when they rage,

                 Turn gods to men, and make an hour an age;

                 But I will give a greater state and glory,

                 And raise to time a noble memory

                 Of what these Lovers are; rise, rise, I say,

                 Thou power of deeps, thy surges laid away,

                 Neptune great King of waters, and by me

                 Be proud to be commanded.

Nep. Cinthia, see, Thy word hath fetcht me hither, let me know why I ascend.

Cinth. Doth this majestick show

                   Give thee no knowledge yet?

Nep. Yes, now I see.

                   Something intended (Cinthia) worthy thee;

                   Go on, I'le be a helper.

Cinth. Hie thee then,

                   And charge the wind flie from his Rockie Den.

                   Let loose thy subjects, only Boreas

                   Too foul for our intention as he was;

                   Still keep him fast chain'd; we must have none here

                   But vernal blasts, and gentle winds appear,

                   Such as blow flowers, and through the glad Boughs sing

                   Many soft welcomes to the lusty spring.

                   These are our musick: next, thy watry race

                   Bring on in couples; we are pleas'd to grace

                   This noble night, each in their richest things

                   Your own deeps or the broken vessel brings;

                   Be prodigal, and I shall be as kind,

                   And shine at full upon you.

Nep. Ho the wind

                   Commanding Eolus!

Eol. Great Neptune!

Nep. He.

Eol. What is thy will?

Eol. I shall do it.

Nep. Do, great master of the flood, and all below,

                   Thy full command has taken.

Eol. Ho! the main;

                   Neptune.

Nep. Here.

Eol. Boreas has broke his chain,

                  And struggling with the rest, has got away.

Nep. Let him alone, I'le take him up at sea;

                  He will not long be thence; go once again

                  And call out of the bottoms of the Main,

                  Blew Proteus, and the rest; charge them put on

                  Their greatest pearls, and the most sparkling stone

                  The bearing Rock breeds, till this night is done

                  By me a solemn honour to the Moon;

                  Flie like a full sail.

Eol. I am gone.

Cin. Dark night,

                  Strike a full silence, do a thorow right

                  To this great Chorus, that our Musick may

                  Touch high as heaven, and make the East break day

                  At mid-[n]ight.

                  Cinthia to thy power, and them we obey.

                  Joy to this great company, and no day

                  Come to steal this night away,

                  Till the rites of love are ended,

                  And the lusty Bridegroom say,

                  Welcome light of all befriended.

                  Pace out you watry powers below, let your feet

                  Like the Gallies when they row, even beat.

                  Let your unknown measures set

                  To the still winds, tell to all

                  That Gods are come immortal great,

                  To honour this great Nuptial.

                  Hold back thy hours dark night, till we have done,

                             The day will come too soon;

                  Young Maids will curse thee if thou steal'st away,

                             And leav'st their blushes open to the day.

                             Stay, stay, and hide the blushes of the Bride.

                  Stay gentle night, and with thy darkness cover

                             The kisses of her Lover.

                  Stay, and confound her tears, and her shrill cryings,

                             Her weak denials, vows, and often dyings;

                             Stay and hide all, but help not though she

                             call.

Nep. Great Queen of us and Heaven,

                  Hear what I bring to make this hour a full one,

                  If not her measure.

Cinth. Speak Seas King.

Nep. Thy tunes my Amphitrite joyes to have,

                   When they will dance upon the rising wave,

                   And court me as the sails, my Trytons play

                   Musick to lead a storm, I'le lead the way.

                 _To bed, to bed; come Hymen, lead the Bride,

                      And lay her by her Husbands side:

                      Bring in the Virgins every one

                      That grieve to lie alone:

                 That they may kiss while they may say, a maid,

                      To morrow 'twill be other, kist and said:

                      Hesperus be long a shining,

                      Whilst these Lovers are a twining_.

Eol. Ho! Neptune!

Nept. Eolus!

Eol. The Seas go hie,

                 Boreas hath rais'd a storm; go and applie

                 Thy trident, else I prophesie, ere day

                 Many a tall ship will be cast away:

                 Descend with all the Gods, and all their power to

                 strike a cal[m].

Cin. A thanks to every one, and to gratulate

                 So great a service done at my desire,

                 Ye shall have many floods fuller and higher

                 Than you have wisht for; no Ebb shall dare

                 To let the day see where your dwellings are:

                 Now back unto your Government in haste,

                 Lest your proud charge should swell above the waste,

                 And win upon the Island.

Nep. We obey.

Cinth. Hold up thy head dead night; seest thou not day?

                 The East begins to lighten, I must down

                 And give my brother place.

Nigh. Oh! I could frown

                  To see the day, the day that flings his light

                  Upon my Kingdoms, and contemns old Night;

                  Let him go on and flame, I hope to see

                  Another wild-fire in his Axletree;

                  And all false drencht; but I forgot, speak Queen.

                  The day grows on I must no more be seen.

Cin. Heave up thy drowsie head agen, and see

                   A greater light, a greater Majestie,

                   Between our sect and us; whip up thy team;

                   The day breaks here, and you some flashing stream

                   Shot from the South; say, which way wilt thou go?

Nigh. I'le vanish into mists. [Exeunt.

Cin. I into day. [Finis Mask.

King. Take lights there Ladies, get the Bride to bed;

                  We will not see you laid, good night Amintor,

                  We'l ease you of that tedious ceremony;

                  Were it [my] case, I should think time run slow.

                  If thou beest noble, youth, get me a boy,

                  That may defend my Kingdom from my foes.

Amin. All happiness to you.

King. Good night Melantius. [Exeunt.